Live: Dead Weather Play a Small Dark Room for the Privileged Few

Midday yesterday, Dead Weather aka Jack White and Alison Mosshart and two other less famous though still valuable folks, played a pop-up shop on Chrystie Street in Manhattan. We sent our eyes and ears to the streets, photographer Sunny Shokrae and intern extraordinaire Natalia Ciolko, out to report. More of Sunny's photos and Natalia's take on the wild scene the are after the jump.

Shipments of Tiparos Fish Sauce rolling into an adjacent warehouse broke the patient Dead Weather fans waiting to see the band play a noon show at their pop-up shop yesterday in the Lower East Side. Up for two days, the shop sold Dead Weather 7-inch singles, White Stripes vinyl and awkwardly giant $125 metal posters. When everyone was let into the literally pitch black performance room, there was a lurch of scrambling, confused bodies in the bullrun to the stage, with the sound crew dressed as 1930s gangsters, jammed their way up to the stage. Kids booed. A group of teenage boys huddled at the front said they camped out for 16 hours, since nine the night before. The band mercifully emerged within moments, looking grim. Jack White now looks kind of like post-steroids Timbaland, his long-sleeve, black shirt couldn’t help conceal his now awkwardly bulging biceps. The set’s five back-to-back songs were totally solid, albeit some poor sound quality on Mossheart’s mic throughout and Jack’s total mic failure, which had him abandoning his drum kit to come to Mossheart’s side for the dramatic vocals on “Hang You From The Heavens.” In the darkness you could see his white eyeball ring glinting.